Evie
Did you ever love her? Do you know?
Had she known she would be waking him she might have tried to reign in the jolt of fear that came with awakening and not knowing where he was, but perhaps it was inevitable given how lightly he sleeps anyway. Regardless she only knows the dark of their room and the fuzzy tiltawhirl in her head that make her reach out into the imposing shadows with hand and voice, calling for the one person she knows, even in her disorientation, whose mere presence will make her feel more secure.
When his hand touches hers at first she jolts, until his voice comes through the shadows to provide recognition that settles swift over her racing heart to lure it back towards a calmer pace. Turning towards him, fingers ensnaring at his own, her other comes up to her temple with a wince when the motion makes pain lance through her temple. Instinctually, she reaches for her magic, accustomed to whisking away any little hurts - and finds a beleaguered response that makes her stomach swoop with nausea. That’s when she starts remembering, and she sits there staring at the vague shapes of their hands in the dark as she comes to terms with it all, likely silent for far too long given his question.
“Disoriented,” she admits in a soft, raspy voice. Confused, before. Less so now. Slowly lifting her eyes to him both for the sake of her head and her heart, she squeezes his hand and gives him a fond, wry smile. “I thought I told you I could sleep at the infirmary,” she murmurs, not quite able to laugh just yet but wanting some measure of lightheartedness amidst all this darkness.
When his hand touches hers at first she jolts, until his voice comes through the shadows to provide recognition that settles swift over her racing heart to lure it back towards a calmer pace. Turning towards him, fingers ensnaring at his own, her other comes up to her temple with a wince when the motion makes pain lance through her temple. Instinctually, she reaches for her magic, accustomed to whisking away any little hurts - and finds a beleaguered response that makes her stomach swoop with nausea. That’s when she starts remembering, and she sits there staring at the vague shapes of their hands in the dark as she comes to terms with it all, likely silent for far too long given his question.
“Disoriented,” she admits in a soft, raspy voice. Confused, before. Less so now. Slowly lifting her eyes to him both for the sake of her head and her heart, she squeezes his hand and gives him a fond, wry smile. “I thought I told you I could sleep at the infirmary,” she murmurs, not quite able to laugh just yet but wanting some measure of lightheartedness amidst all this darkness.
Or did you just never want to be alone?
